


Forgiveness

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-02
Updated: 2006-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-19 20:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12417981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: He was caught in a war that he was expected to fight in, questioning his place in Wizardry hierarchy. War, death and lost love, a supposed villian tells his tale, and asks himself what it means to forgive. *Scrivenshaft Cycle 7 winner!*





	Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

  We fought. Wands flashing, hexes showering like fireworks, blood spattered against the rough granite walls surrounding us. I felt a fire inside myself that was foreign; I was so used to the clarity of numbness that would seep into my being as soon as the first blow was struck. Never before had I battled so deftly, it was like a dance, a fierce, primal dance and at that moment I knew why my brother loved it so much. 

  He gets his by a nasty violet ray, splitting his face in tiny slits all around, the blood flows like syrup. This is when I really throw myself into it, who was right or wrong, it didn’t matter in the thick of the fight, I frankly didn’t care, all I knew was it was Us vs. Them, and my family were a part of Us. Death Eaters vs. Aurors like it always was, like it probably always will be until one of the sects is massacred by the other. Why do I do it? Fight the bad fight, charge at them with such fervor, revel in destruction; one thing; there is only one thing that keeps me alive, fighting, and that is revenge. ‘What in the world does Rabastan Lestrange want revenge on?’ You might ask, ‘certainly a Death Eater could not feel an emotion as sincere as vengeance, he’s just a monster!’ and maybe I am, but I deserve revenge just as much as those spurned Aurors.

  I never had a life, I didn’t really have a choice in the matter, and I was and always will be just another Death Eater, a man who fulfilled his dark destiny by committing evil acts, slaughtering the righteous, and all that grandeur, because it its impossible that I was anything more, for I wasn’t a Gryffindor or a hero, so I am not fit worthy to inspect further, right? Wrong, all those Mudblood lovers and traitors think that I am beneath them, so as to justify that the Aurors used Unforgivables on us, on me, but apparently forgiveness is situational. They try and dehumanize us, paint us as these Fairy tale monsters, the children of my brethren are still suffering this from the heroes’ spawn so why shouldn’t they become Death Eaters? Not one of those noble people who fought against us expect anything more from them, they never did for me.

  Can any of the righteous truly be surprised that the sons of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, are following in their fathers footsteps? Perhaps if they hadn’t been so antagonized by society their fates would be different, maybe they could have been saved, but no one wants to blame a society that divides into Death Eaters and Aurors, they are encouraging the separation of Mudbloods and the pure, diving us up, looking down upon those whose lineage are untainted, who are they to say that they are accepting! Even Sirius Black was cast out by them, he who shunned his family and brought shame to the Blacks, but the second he was suspected of a crime they labeled him a Death Eater, they hated and feared him for something that he would never have had enough courage to do.

  Bellatrix was delighted when the ministry began their witch-hunt for her cousin; I remember hearing her peals of laughter echoing against the cement of her cell in Azkaban, no amount of Dementor torment could quench her joy. For days she smiled that deliciously wicked grin, a flicker of her previous beauty against the sallow ness of her face. Years ago the Dementors had run out of memories to torture Bella with, she had lost her guilt a long time earlier; they couldn’t hurt her any longer. She was simply euphoric with pleasure that everything that blood traitor relative of hers worked for had been destroyed in a false accusation, Rodolphus told me she said Sirius was finally being punished for his sins and that when he was dead and the truth came out, she wanted to see the look on Cornelius Fudge’s face, the contorted, shocked horror at what his administration had done, she was almost hysteric at the thought. 

  It’s almost laughable that Bellatrix was originally my betrothed, when Rodolphus is so devoted to her, even in her insanity. When Rodolphus was seventeen and I sixteen our parents were arranging marriages with the Black sisters, he was to marry Andromeda, and Bellatrix was to be my wife, because of our matching ages and birth order, but in his seventh year at Durmstrang our Father forced Rodolphus to come home. Aubrey Wilkes, a Death Eater and old friend of Fathers had been killed by Aurors; he wanted my older brother at Hogwarts to watch over me. He came without question, but never took his N.E.W.T.’s so he decided to repeat his final year at Hogwarts with me, and then he met Bellatrix. They had been acquainted at various social events but they had never gotten to know each other, he was lost the first time Bella gave him one of her unwavering half-smile, half-sneers that is so incredibly radiant you feel overshadowed by it; I knew by his enraptured gaze that she was his.

  I didn’t mind, how could I? I never loved Bellatrix, was never really interested in marriage at all, it was expected of me, I knew that, but I also didn’t resist it like Andromeda did, she was intelligent, frugal, and beautiful, she would make a fine wife, there was no doubt. And then she ran off with that Muggle Ted Tonks, left a charming, affluent Pureblood for a weak Muggle. My downward descent began with her departure, I hurt, ripped, raw, hurt and I couldn’t shrug it off, she fueled my anger, my passion. At nineteen I became completely engrossed by the movement and Voldemort, I went to every attack I could, I researched odd and creative spells that slid past the Aurors shield charms like butter, for once in my life I had finally stepped out of Rodolphus’ shadow, the feeling was fantastic, momentarily shooting me out of my depression. My brother and his wife had a much more infamous reputation in result of their preference to torture, but I was dedicated, not crazed like Barty Crouch Jr., but committed, not because I was really passionate about cleansing the world of Mudbloods, but because I enjoyed the pure, endorphin rush of violence, of strategy, of war. 

  Voldemort noticed my efforts and ensured my safety from my peers, which I was grateful for, the last thing I needed was to be suspected of treason, the consequences would hinder my access to violence if I wasn’t just killed on the spot. I knew more then most the direness of betrayal in our organization, I was the one who killed Regulus Black when he got cold feet when faced with his responsibilities, he was a liability and I was only slightly sickened at being charged with his elimination. Things were going brilliantly, I had rose to the highest ranks with my brother and almost-sister at my side, our casualties were lessening and it seemed that this war would have an end, a thought which both excited and disappointed me. 

  That year was the year of that dreadful, presaged night we had all feared came to pass, the Dark Lord was destroyed, and almost all of the Death Eaters splintered save those of us who were devoted. My anger had peaked; I was convinced the Aurors would come after all the Death Eaters until we were all dead or worse. In our haze of disillusionment we managed to perform the last task Voldemort had assigned us.

  I thought I had healed my vulnerability, Andromeda’s indiscretion seemed much less wounding then it once had, until that fateful night when Rodolphus, Bellatrix, Barty and I were sent after the Longbottom couple, the lowest point of my life. We assumed it would be a simple task, sure they had escaped unscathed from the Dark Lord a few times, but with four of us and the element of surprise it would be a quick, bloody job. And it seemed perfectly average to me, until we arrived at their rundown hideout in a wizard slum, wands a-blazing. The usual procedures were carried out, lights out, windows shattered, and victims incapacitated, nothing out of the ordinary. 

  When Alice and Frank had been disarmed and were at our mercy I raised my weapon in deliverance of the killing curse, but before I could finish my cry of ‘ _Avada!’_ Bellatrix curled her long, thin fingers around my bicep, telling me not just yet. Confused I ceased my incantation, looking at my comrades expectantly, Bella looked at Alice with an animalistic fixation, “I want to play with them a bit before we finish them,” her voice was etched in longing. Now I was alarmed, I just wanted to kill them and leave, but Rodolphus nudged me in a gruff, brotherly way telling me to, “Relax, and watch her do what she does best.”

  After seeing a human being tortured in the ways I saw the Longbottom’s, you feel a new perspective on humanity, I think that was the day I lost emotion, I was hollow, empty, devoid of who I was. All I could see were their pleasant faces being marred in such unimaginable ways, with my voice adding a few Crucio curses to keep up appearances, these weren’t the Aurors who had killed Rupen, or Sarkis, and driven Aharon mad, and these were good, wholesome people who were fighting because it was the right thing to do. I felt sick with myself and ashamed at my guilt, I actually felt relieved when we were arrested for our crime, admitting to it was less of a pledge to the Dark Lord and more of a confession of the soul for me, I was starved for peace. 

Azkaban was not as horrible as I expected, the Dementors didn’t have a huge impact on my psyche, and as soon as my regret for the Longbottom’s was exhausted I became mostly a shell, waiting for my chance for freedom. Years past, and I suffered, aged, and became more jaded from incarceration, watching my brothers handsome face harden and stretch across his skull, as Bella became lost in her insanity, her only solace her husband, her love. Barty died, or so I thought, before later discovering he had escaped and instead been subjected to the Dementors Kiss, much worse then a silent death inside a cold cell. Rosier was killed by Aurors and rumors of Voldemort's revival were circulating.

  If I had been angry before Azkaban, after I broke out I was furious, I had only time to dwell on the killings from the ‘heroes’, the undeserved death and denial. So when I was finally free, I was ready to enact every slice of revenge I had been planning for sixteen years. A very intelligent witch who I would’ve enjoyed working side by side with once told me while we were in school, before she was an Auror and I a Death Eater, she told me that the difference between me and her wasn’t justice, or power or anything like that, she looked me straight in the eye and said, “The real difference between us is that I forgive you, Rabastan. No matter what you do in the future or what the Death Eaters do, I forgive them, that is what makes me more then them, they can’t hurt me,” I admired her even as I despised her. So as I launch myself at my enemy, killing as many as I can, I feel righteous. Am I a righteous man? Am I a thing worth forgiveness? Right now I don’t think I even care.


End file.
